


it’s like a trigger, get me ready to shoot

by sultrygoblin



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Partners to Lovers, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25604749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: one shot - just tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you forever
Relationships: Everett Ross/Reader
Kudos: 19





	it’s like a trigger, get me ready to shoot

**Author's Note:**

> you watch any interview with martin freeman and tell me he doesn’t have a daddy thing. i will fucking wait!

Today is the worst day. Not because you got shot, no that was honestly pretty standard. And not because the bad guy had gotten away, not really that surprising given he was an international arms dealer. You hadn’t planned on catching him in the first go. What really made it the worst day was that Everett had been trying to convince you he was right in shooting first and he was hell-bent on making sure you believed him. Trying to explain as he went about patching you back-alley style in the half-crumbled and considerably ancient bunker. It was barely even a flesh wound, just a deep graze across the bicep. A heated knife, some stitches, and the bottom of your mostly clean shirt and it was like it never happened. Except Everett would not let it go. Even more so than normal.

"You know there's a reason they put me in charge," he grumbled after the sixth or seventh time you've told him to shut up, "If you had just listened-"

"Alright, I’m sorry,  _ daddy _ ," you sighed with dripping sarcasm, prepared to roll your eyes and huff. Instead, you found yourself focusing on the way his Adam's apple bobbed from what could only be described as a hard swallow.

You can't help the smirk that twists your lips, "No?"

"Stop that," snapping and pointing at you.

"And here I thought it'd be Commander."

But you leave it there. Not for his sake and very much for yours. It wasn't like the pull between you two wasn't obvious. It had always seemed more like a  _ when  _ rather than an  _ if _ . Even if Everett hadn't realized it quite yet, you and everyone else had.

Maybe?

"Why'd you shoot?" you asked, the withering look you received in return did nothing to deter you, "We're not going anywhere."

"I've gotten very good at ignoring you," you snort and he proves the point you're about to make by dragging his eyes to you even though he very clearly wants to do anything but, "What?"

"You couldn't ignore me if you tried," any other time it might've sounded cheesy but it feels oddly seductive in its teasing as it tumbled from your lips. He quirks a brow and rolls his eyes, really trying, "Why'd you shoot?"

This is far tenser than just an hours go, with bullets flying and adrenaline pumping in your veins. This is the last tightening of something doomed to snap. You can see it in the kaleidoscoping colors in his eyes, the white knuckle grip he thinks he's hiding on the other side of his thigh.

"You're my part-” you roll your eyes once more, hoping it will be the last time for the foreseeable future, “Well, clearly you've got some theory. Would you like to share  _ my _ thoughts with me? Please?" the sarcasm is designed to be venomous but nothing can break you down, not with that knowledge in your holster.

"He touched me," Everett opens his mouth and you kick him lightly with the toe of your boot, "Do not even _ think _ the words we're partners," he watches you carefully as you scoot to lean against the wall across from him, "We're not just partners and you know it," he doesn't insult you by trying to argue but that's about all you get in response, "If we're such good partners then why won't you talk to me?"

It's a low blow. You're very aware of it, especially when his brows furrow, and his jaw clenches, "You're playing dirty," your mind ignores the sensation the three words send through your body. Much like his own, there's no stopping him from seeing your reaction, "Why is this so important to you?"

"Why isn't it more important to you?" the words slipping out before you can stop them and leaving you very little time to regroup, "Just tell me why you shot and I’ll shut the hell up.”

"I don’t believe you,” running his hands over his face before releasing a long breath, "Did you like when he touched you?" it wasn't quite what you expected.

You had. Just not in the way he was thinking. There was something about the way Ulysses had grabbed your hip and told you that by the end of the night you’d be calling him  _ ubaba _ before the room exploded into gunfire. It had nothing to do with the man. But rather the images they conjured up and the man who flashed through your mind at the words. You're not quite sure how to tell him that but the longer you're silent the more foreboding inexact language becomes.

"It felt good to be wanted like that," surprised that he hasn’t already began to roll his eyes and assume the words but instead he appears to be hanging on every single one, “But not from him.”

The way his gaze softens and his shoulders ease make it clear it's something close to what he wants to hear, "It wasn't going to work anyway, we were outnumbered," he sighs, seeming to relax entirely for the first time since you'd been introduced, "And then he touched you and..." he sighed, looking at the SRAC beside him knowing it would just remind him your pick up window was still unclear.

You hate this atmosphere, some naive part of you thinking he would just tell you the truth without something in return. That had been a dumb decision, one of many today. At least this one you had some chance of fixing. You leaned forward, snatching the machine before he could and tossing it to the side. It would beep when needed and that was enough for you. Which means he's got nowhere to look where you don't occupy some space.

"That is what you brought me for. You said-"

"I know what I said!" it's the first time he's raised his voice at you like that and it seems to throw you back against the wall, "Only I didn't say it. In fact, I argued against it. Aggressively."

You sighed, this one exasperated, exhausted, when was starting to seem pretty far off again, "Why?" it's all you really feel capable of asking anymore. But he's got that look, you know why and he knows it. But it isn't enough, "Goddamitt Everett."

"Because I knew I'd shoot," he sighs, seeming both shamed and relieved by the admission, "I should've..." he closes his eyes and shakes his head, "He seems to like you even more now."

"Which isn't what you want, as we covered," happy it twitches his lips in the ghost of a smile, normality, it's what you both crave in this wholly uncomfortable moment. But it doesn't quite exist anymore, not in the same way at least, "What do you want?"

He finally seems to realize the answer. You can see those smarmy shards of himself peeking through now. His ghost of smile becomes a smirk as his eyes return to yours, "You really want to do this?" you nod, biting your bottom lip just barely for a variety of reasons, chiefly anticipation.

Of course, that's when it would beep. You've never wanted to destroy anything more. Instead, you lean to the side, grab it and hold it out for him, "I think it's for you,  _ daddy _ ," you watched the same hard swallow but it doesn't stop him from his work.

You gather the rest of the supplies as he makes the plan before you. It sounds like, if it was truly as clear as it seemed, it shouldn't be too much of a problem. Something you were indescribably thankful for. Unfortunately figuring out how long the journey to the drop off and then the shower had left your guard down.

The grip on your hip isn't loose and hanging like earlier that day, it's bruising and comes with another hand dug into your hair, holding tight and pulling backward. It isn't comfortable which seems to be the whole point. His breath curls the shell of your ear.

"You should be careful with that attitude of yours," your spine straining and your skin sudden my on fire, "Brats always get theirs."

He seemed to dematerialize as if it never happened. It felt like your being was shattering but with the realization that making it to a shower would not go as easily as originally hoped you couldn't focus on it. You focused on how to get from point A to point B. Two miles shouldn’t be that far but you weren’t in Disneyland after all. You’d both managed to make it to the helicopter bullet wound free. Not for lack of trying on anyone’s part but the least you could do for the man was control your reckless behavior. Which he had clearly noticed but would not do you the disservice of ever bringing up. 

Upon arriving “on base”, which was really just a stuffy shack with a bathroom hung off the edge, he sent you straight to there to shower while he called HQ. The water never stayed slightly cold for long enough and you hurried through, even as you dreaded stepping back into the muggy room. Just the idea of clothes sticking to your skin had begun to make you unreasonably angry. It was more that at this point you were sick of it and really just wanted some to be the littlest bit comfortable. You knew you’d have to drag on another pair of heavy jeans to just sit around and die in. Or...

You could play tease. A dangerous game. But it didn’t require a bra that made you itch from trapped sweat or those unbearable tactical pants that you had always complained were just ridiculous for anywhere above 10 degrees. Just a loose black tank top and cute but comfortable panties that were not covered even a little by the shirt. In fact, it skirted just beneath your belly button which was the whole point after all. You left the rest of the clothing on the wicker barely table in the corner of the bathroom. Enjoying how nice it was to be unrestricted so much you’d almost forgotten it’s secondary intention upon walking out the bathroom door, tossing your towel over the open door to dry out best it could.

“You are ridiculous,”  _ almost forgotten _ , pushing your hands through your damp hair you shook your head, “You are not going to convince me this is anything but purposeful.”

“I wasn’t going to try,” you shot back, much to both your surprises, “It’s just a bonus that I get to be comfortable,” turning your eyes on him and really wishing you’d kept yourself distracted.

It never failed to make your heart stop how rugged Everett could look when given no other option. The light stubble, the messy hair, the slightly stained shirt that sat tight against him and stopped just over his belt and holster. He might be a man who loved his suits and fancy colognes but that man had never dared toe the line farther than mutual flirtation and lingering glances. This man was blatant and clear, even as his words sounded incredulous those ever-changing eyes had honed in on you, darkened in a way you had never been on the other end of.

“When?” you snickered in response, “What?”

You shrugged, “Nothing,” taking a steadying breath because this is it, you’ve decided to cut the rope instead of being completely out of control. At least, that’s what you’ve convinced yourself is happening, anything to will the words from your throat, “Cavally,” choosing to answer honestly instead of screwing with him, the way you could actually feel his gaze against your skin made it clear it wasn’t necessary, “We were cutting through that alley. A platoon was coming down the street and you pressed me up against the wall,” you can’t help the shudder, you had been much younger and the memory had lead to more than a few fun nights at home. You click your tongue and raise your eyebrows, at least taking control of your inability to control your pleasured reactions, “Then. Exactly then. I mean, like, everything clicked into place and,” you shook your head with a wistful smile, “ _ Oof _ .”

“Oof?” he, rhetorically, asked, lips twisting into a smirk as he stepped forward, each step a loud thud, “What exactly is oof?” the shoddy wood creaks and the way it’s raised makes each step echo.

You shake your head, smile somewhere between embarrassed and your own smirk, “It’s...” you swallow hard, two more steps and you’d be toe to toe. How was he so imposing? You tugged on your bottom lip with your teeth, willing any real thought to come to mind, “ _ Daddy _ ,” it was all you could think of. 

Wasn’t that how it all started? Because it hadn’t been the hand on the hip. He’d had no problem talking about that but when it came to that he was silent. Trying to distract her. But you’d seen, beneath the snap and point straight to the hard swallow that he couldn’t help even now. Those two steps are gone, his fingers grip your hair by the root, his blown pupils leave only blackness for you to look into. It warms every inch of your body in all the best ways.

“What did I tell you about that?” he can’t help himself, it’s an instinctive reaction to the word mixed with your clothing. Or lack thereof.

You didn’t take into account how heady the return of his affections might make you or what the loss of control really meant. There was no chance of forming a real word, let alone an entire sentence. You let that smirk twist your face and shrugged, the only thing you could think of. 

Everett kisses you like he could absorb everything about you through the kiss. It clogs your senses. The familiar feeling of his bruising fingers curling your hip, his teeth nipping at your lip, and dragging a moan from your throat that you hadn’t even realized was growing. You trade fisting your hands against themselves for a tight grip on the sleeves of his shirt and the lame attempt at thrusting your hips tightly against his. He was quick to hold them in place, your groan of disappointment becomes an opportunity for him to pull away, looking the kind of cocky that made you turned on in the most frustrating of ways. He steps back, every part of him separating from you. You want to crumble to the floor in a needy mess and pounce on him at the same time. It leaves you stock still and panting in an attempt to catch your breath. 

“There’s a lot we can do with 12 hours,” how he can sound so calm you have no idea, just that somehow his ability to hold it all together makes all your nerve endings feel raw, “First, I think we should do something about that attitude,” he sits hard on the edge of the barely queen bed and far too casually gestures to his lap, “It’s been a long time coming, baby girl.”

How your legs worked when your entire body seemed to be melting you had no idea. Just that you were over his lap and he had yanked your panties to just under the curve of your ass. There isn’t a warning, just the sudden crack of his hand against your cheek. It burned and soaked you in the same instant. 

“Fuck,” the word falls without a thought and you’re sure you hear him hum above you. A second hits the other cheek, “Jesus Christ!”

It wasn’t like you hadn’t had a received a firm slap on the ass in the moment but this was calculated, it had a reason and whatever it was must be working because you bit your lips this time. Doing your best to swallow down the noise and batter the instinctive need to move away from the pain on the third. And the fourth. By the fifth, there was a tingle that had begun to travel your whole body. By the sixth you found your hips raising in a desperate need to feel more. There’s a clear chuckle behind you and no seventh strike. The palm of his hand skates softly over the red flesh.

“Might not be your most fun ride home,” he’s far too amused, you can’t focus on anything but needing him, “I told you brats get what they deserve.”

“Thank you, daddy,” like so many things since everything changed this too simply falls from your lips without a thought, an autonomous response to everything that had happened up until now.

The sound of tearing can only be your panties, only when they’re ripped from you does he help you to your feet. Entirely selfishly because he wastes no time in turning your tank top into trash, with a flick of his knife before it was back in the holster and his shirt was suddenly gone. You almost crumbled to the ground, thankful for the edge of the bed. Your hiss at the sudden pressure against you turning into a moan. There was rugged and then there was this. Your legs fall open and he’s kneeling between them, lips on your neck, fingers flittering up and down your drenched slit.

Over your jaw, he’s pushing you backward, fingers dipping briefly between your fold. The brush across your straining clit is purposeful and draws a frustrated whine from you. You can feel his grin against your cheek as his lips draw press against your ear.

“Just tell daddy what you need, baby girl,” which is nothing your imagination had conjured.

You gasp when his teeth clamp down hard on your ear lobe. He's over you, teasing, “Touch me, daddy,  _ please _ .”

It’s the first time you’ve ever said the word to him. It does more than he could’ve imagined. There’s no ability to tease. He’s desperate to make you cum and his fingers waste no time in fulfilling the need. You hadn’t even realized how close you were to the edge until it’s his full attention. With anyone else you might’ve been embarrassed with how quickly you’d come undone. But you’re to focused on how his corded back muscles feel when you dig your nails into his skin and your back arches. All you can manage is keening noises and breathy moans, he wants nothing else from you. It distracts you from his free hand, working quietly at his belt. It’s never been so overwhelming, a weight on your chest, you need to breathe but all you want to do is fall into what he’s making you feel. Your back is arched and your eyes closed when the pain of his zipper disappears along with his hand.

Your gaze is suddenly on him, desperate, needy. All the things he'd tried not to think about after that night in a Middle-Eastern club, when you’d kissed him like you meant it. You had and by the end, so did he. 

“Deep breath, princess,” he whispers, pleased to find you don’t question, just doing your best to take in a ragged breath, which is impossible, “Daddy’s gonna make all that waiting worth it.”

Which could mean a thousand things all of which you’re equally underprepared for. But the way he fills you tops the list. It’s like everything else since you climbed on his lap; beautifully painful. He stretches you, filling you to the brim in a hard, swift thrust that bumps him against your cervix and makes you scream. Which isn’t enough for him, snapping his hips back and falling forward quickly. Harshly. Over and over, he battered against you. Every part of you clenches, white-hot pleasure spikes through you as the pain becomes a dull thud and disappears completely. 

“You are so tight,” he pants, elbows bent above your shoulders, forcing your gaze to his when he speaks, “Have you been holding out for daddy?”

You have, you both know it and you nod with a whine when one arm slithers between the two of you and presses against that perfect bundle of nerves. It pushes you over the edge, you hum in agreement, trying to swallow down air as your body seemed to convulse, still he doesn’t stop, “Yes,” you barely manage to gasp it out, “Fuck!” 

“So fucking perfect for me,” his lips travel your cheeks, your face, “Once more, just once more for me.”

You couldn’t have done anything else. Even if you wanted to. Whether it was minutes or hours it felt like mere seconds. You’d never had galaxies explode in front of your eyes, never seen someone else see them. He kisses you,  _ hard _ . It’s messy and needy. Your teeth clank, tearing at lips as tongues tangled. You pull him over the edge so suddenly there’s no time to pull out. Both of you tumble into the sensation of him filling what little room is left inside you with him, it pulls you even deeper and your final spasm draws the last of his cum from his now very oversensitive cock. 

Unwillingly he pulls himself from you but not far, just rolling to the side and propping his head up. Neither of you could muster the energy to feel shame and you sensed that would become a pattern until the emotion disappears entirely. How he can still be so calm and collected after having shattered you entire reality you’re not sure. Just that you enjoy that cocky smile a lot more now than you did before. 

“That shower was pointless,” you’re not sure why it’s the first words that come to mind but he doesn’t disagree with you.

He even nods, “I’d offer to clean you up but we still have,” looking up at the clock with a light squint, “Ten and a half hours.”

“Fuck me,” you sighed, lolling your head to the side.

“That’s the plan, baby girl.”


End file.
